


Punishment

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: ?? maybe?, Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Rimming, Sugar Daddy John, depends on how you view it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's been naughty and (Sugar?) Daddy John has to set things straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> This was a kink fill for some suggestions from kinklock and maryismoran on tumblr. I... yeah... this isn't beta read. Also, my first BDSM thing, so, uh, please don't judge

John’s eyes were raptured, intent upon his lover. He’d never seen a prettier sight, never had the pleasure of fucking such a beautiful man.

Sherlock was sitting trussed up and pretty on his lap, mouth open in a pant and eyes wide from exhaustion. He was tied with black rope, bound so that his arms and hands were immobile behind him. The sweat that had earlier been rolling down Sherlock’s body now just gleamed in the light streaming through the windows of the living room, making his skin shine and his hair stick in ringlets to his temples.

Every so often, a soft fragile noise would escape those full red lips that were swollen from kissing and sucking John off.

Sherlock’s thighs were shaking now, and he was struggling to keep lifting himself up and down on John’s cock. John wasn’t helping. Sherlock had misbehaved, and this was his punishment. Well, _this_ was just one of them in the long line of punishments Sherlock had had so far. They’d been at this for a little over three hours.

It hadn’t started as a punishment. It had started as rough sex against the wall because Sherlock was a lippy little _bastard_ who had nearly gotten himself killed _again_. Both of them had been without sleep, but the adrenaline had still been running high when they had stumbled into the flat at six forty-eight in the morning.

It had turned into a punishment when Sherlock came without permission or warning or, well, anything except a shout. John hadn’t even finished yet, but he pulled out and walked away, leaving Sherlock to pant and whimper on the floor. John strode into the bedroom, rummaging around in the cupboard and setting out some toys before calling Sherlock to him.

“On your knees,” he had said softly, a dangerous edge to his voice. Sherlock had complied, obviously still smart enough to respond to orders, though apparently not smart enough to wait for them. John had bound him expertly, pulling him back until his posture was perfect. He had fitted him with a cock ring and then fucked his face, holding him down as he came down his throat.

“Your cum belongs to me, Sherlock,” he said when he pulled away, leaving Sherlock to gasp for breath. “Repeat that to yourself, because by the time your punishment is over, it’s going to be the only thing you know.”

And now they were here. Sherlock had stopped begging to cum an hour ago. John had only cum twice so far, but in between, he had fucked Sherlock with a vibrator or left him tied up on the floor with a large plug in his arse. This was not something for Sherlock to want more of. This was for John, to take and take and give nothing in return.

“Faster, Sherlock, don’t you dare fucking stop,” he growled, reaching up to pull Sherlock’s hair, bending him back and pushing his chest forward to put those taut, perky nipples within easy reach of his mouth. “Unless you want to go on the floor again?”

Sherlock shook his head frantically and moved his hips a little faster, though just barely. “Please, please, Daddy, I’m so tired. I can’t go any faster,” he whimpered.

John bit down around Sherlock’s nipple and sucked hard. Sherlock arched into him, crying out in a broken voice.

“Daddy, _please_ ,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

John pulled away and licked over Sherlock’s nipple, hoping that there would be a large bruise there tomorrow. “What are you sorry for, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, his cock twitching as Sherlock rolled his hips in a slow circle. His eyes travelled up, narrowing on each bruise on Sherlock’s neck, admiring where black rope dug into pale, sweaty skin turned golden in the morning glow. There were tears just falling from the corners of Sherlock’s eyes.

“F-for not being able to go faster. For misbehaving before. For not waiting for you to tell me to cum,” he said, his voice softening as his body tensed up. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m really sorry. I-I belong to you. Everything of mine belongs to you.”

“Damn right it does,” John growled, snapping his hips up and pulling Sherlock’s hair tighter. “You are _mine_ , Sherlock.” He thrust roughly into Sherlock, his eyes taking in everything, every small muscle twitch, every tug against the ropes, every time his eyelashes fluttered. “Do you think you’ve been good for me, Sherlock?”

Sherlock shuddered, recognising the trick question for what it was. “I hope so, Daddy. I’m really, really sorry for misbehaving earlier.” His breath hitched multiple times as he spoke, and his cock bounced and leaked over John’s stomach as he fucked into him. “Please, Daddy!”

John’s third orgasm of the night hit him unexpectedly, and he pressed up into Sherlock, filling him up. Sherlock made the prettiest noises when John filled him, mewling and gasping and writhing on his daddy’s cock.

John relaxed on the chair, his hand falling from Sherlock’s curls to stroke down his arm and come to rest on his hip.

After a moment, John lifted Sherlock up from his lap and told him to stand beside the chair. Legs shaking, Sherlock responded, his eyes watching John the whole time. John hummed, getting to his feet and doing up his jeans before he turned to Sherlock. “Kneel on the cushion,” he said, positioning Sherlock the way he wanted him, taking care to make sure that circulation wasn’t cut off anywhere. He didn’t care about bruises, but he did care about permanent damage.

“Such a good boy,” John praised for the first time in three hours, pressing a soft kiss to Sherlock’s shoulder and then to the side of his neck. He nudged Sherlock forward so that his chest was firmly pressed against the back of the chair. “You’re so good for your daddy, aren’t you?”

Sherlock nodded furiously, turning his head to watch John. “Uh, uh, Sherlock. Head down, baby.” With a whine, Sherlock complied, spreading his legs a little wider.

John walked around behind Sherlock and knelt on the floor, looking up the curved line of his back, over his lush arse that was bright red from fucking and the earlier spanking. Between his legs, Sherlock’s cock hung, red and dribbling pre-cum onto the fabric of the chair. His balls were drawn up tight against his body. John smirked, leaning in to nip at Sherlock’s arse cheek, deeply pleased when Sherlock didn’t jump, only moaned.

“Good boy, Sherlock,” John murmured, spreading and massaging Sherlock’s arse with both hands. “You going to be good and cum when I tell you to?” he asked, licking a long broad stripe up the cleft of Sherlock’s arse and over his fluttering hole.

“Yes, Dady, please, I’ll be so good for you,” Sherlock promised, his voice higher than normal, his muscles quaking as he refrained from moving around too much.

Slowly, John reached forward and took off the cock ring, and Sherlock audibly sighed with relief at the loss of the metal ring. “Not until I say,” John reminded, and then he started licking.

He began with short strokes, just above or below Sherlock’s hole, and then over them. He wriggled his tongue in circles, pushed in just barely, then pulled back out. Sherlock keened above him, his hands flexing where they were bound behind his back. John didn’t stop, couldn’t, not until he had pushed Sherlock just a bit further.

He pushed his tongue in as far as he could, then joined it with his finger, which was easily crooked up and used to rub slowly over Sherlock’s prostate.

Sherlock made a noise somewhere between a sob and a scream, and John, pleased, pulled back and gave him permission to cum. It happened immediately and violently, and John watched as Sherlock came hard, experiencing what appeared to be two orgasms.

John didn’t draw his finger out until Sherlock was teetering on the edge of pulling away from being over sensitive.

“So good, Sherlock, such a good boy for me,” John praised, standing up and getting to work on untying his baby boy. Once Sherlock was free of the rope, John picked him up and just held him there for a minute. “Would you like a hot bath before we go to bed?” he asked, kissing Sherlock’s forehead when he nodded.

So John carried Sherlock into the bathroom and set him in the tub, filling it up around him. He stroked Sherlock’s hair and cleaned him up, but he stayed on the outside of the tub, letting Sherlock come back to himself while John whispered soft words of encouragement and praise to him and made sure to touch him at all times.

“Can we go to bed now, Daddy?”

John blinked, coming back to himself. He hadn’t realised how long Sherlock had been in the tub, though he didn’t seem to mind. John smiled tenderly, brushing his knuckles down Sherlock’s cheek. “Of course, baby. Let’s get you dried off and wrapped up.”

He got Sherlock into a warmer dressing gown and then carried him to bed, setting him down on the mattress and covering him up. “I’m just going to change, and then I’ll join you,” he promised, not wanting to have his rough jeans brushing against Sherlock’s sensitive skin.

“No, Daddy…”

“Sherlock,” John said firmly, giving him a look that made him blush out of sheepishness.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Sherlock mumbled.

John stripped out of his clothes, wiping himself off with his jumper, then tossed the clothes aside and went back to Sherlock, pulling him against his chest. “Get some rest, love. I’ll make you something sweet when you wake up.”

“Yes, Daddy.”


End file.
